


Repentance

by RhiaDalish



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-10 13:12:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5586955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RhiaDalish/pseuds/RhiaDalish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cullen receives a change to redeem himself with a mage from the Kirkwall Circle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Repentance

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is the Second Prize winner for my tumblr giveaway!

“No, this is ridiculous,” Cullen shook his head at Leliana. She responded with raised brows and a leveled stare. 

“Here we go,” Josephine set her pen down and readied herself for an entertaining argument. 

“Oh? Please, Commander, tell me why you think my plan is…” She hesitated as Cullen started to laugh. Josephine tilted her head in confusion, meeting Imryll and Leliana’s puzzled expressions. 

“Commander?” 

“Sorry, sorry,” Cullen cleared his throat, laughter still in his voice. “I am sure your plan will succeed, Leliana. Just leave out the nugs, perhaps?” 

Josephine and Imryll both covered their mouths with their hands to hide their smiles. 

“Fine,” Leliana, the most observant of the advisors, had not missed the collective amusement. She took her leave, followed but Josephine who was trying to match her irritable pace. 

Imryll nearly jumped when Cullen burst out into hardy laughter once the other advisors had exited. The sound that resonated from him was so foreign and genuine that she wasn’t sure if she should join him in his gaiety or be concerned. She started to lean more towards concern. 

“Cullen?” 

“So-sorry,” he walked around the table and swept her up into his arms. Imryll quickly looped her arms around his neck as he spun her then kissed her deeply. She was breathless when he pulled away and set her down. 

“What….what was all that about?”  

“I received an important message this morning,” he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, the warm heaviness from his armor pleasant. 

“Oh? Something good?” 

“Very good,” Cullen’s arm slid down to her waist as he leaned over to kiss the top of Imryll’s head. 

She was less concerned than before in the war room, but now Imryll wasn’t sure if it was lingering cynicism or real weariness that was making this ‘very good’ news seem suspicious. On the other hand, Cullen was no fool and if anything, he would have been more suspicious than her. 

“Well? Are you going to tell me this very good news?” 

His face was lit up with a rare smile. “I’d much rather show you. Come with me, love.” 

They walked together, catching the eyes of all the nobles and dignitaries crowded into Skyhold’s main keep. The stained glass windows painted the floors with a myriad of dancing colors and the smells of pastries wafted up from the kitchens.  

“Am I really that sleep deprived? Or is that a smile on your face, Curly?” Varric rubbed at his eyes to exaggerate his claim of disbelief. 

Cullen chuckled and clapped the dwarf on the shoulder as they strolled by. Varric shook his head in resigned confusion and went back to the fireside. 

They were met with similar looks and commentary as they made their way to the tower that held Cullen’s office. To her surprise, he was completely unfazed by it all. Usually Cullen got a bit shy or irritable when so much attention was focused on him. Whatever this news was had to be something extraordinary. 

***

Cullen shoved a rolled parchment into Imryll’s hands. The remnants of a wax seal scratched against her fingers and crumbled under her touch. What was left of the seal’s symbol was too broken to distinguish, but it seemed to be nothing extravagant or of note. 

“Go on,” he leaned on the heavy desk, smiling at her eagerly, “read it.” 

Imryll sighed at the whimsy swirling around the situation. She unfurled the parchment and started to read. 

 _Dear Ser Rutherford,_  

 _My name is Loyla Gilroy._ _I am the sister of Hadan Gilroy and am writing this letter on his behalf._ _You may not recall my brother from the Kirkwall Circle, but he speaks of you often._  

 _The events that took p_ _lace in Kirkwall were hard_ _on Hadan, but he is slowly recovering. He mentioned that you were a gre_ _a_ _t help to him during his time in Kirkwall and he feels that thanking you in person would help to speed his recovery._  

 _I hear that you are now a part of the Inquisition and we are both happy to see you are continuing to do good work towards peace between the mages and Templars. If you are able to take leave of your duty for a short time, my brother and I would very much enjoy your company at our new home in Redcliffe Village._  

 _Sincerest thanks and well wishes,_  

 _Loyla and Hadan Gilroy._  

Imryll looked up from the parchment, meeting Cullen’s eager eyes. 

“I never thought I’d hear anything like that from anyone in Kirkwall,” he took the scroll and tightly rolled it again, hiding it away in one of the many drawers of his desk. 

“You helped the mages? I don’t remember you talking about that.” Imryll winced internally, feeling as if her tone was more accusatory than it was meant to be. Luckily, Cullen was still encased in his good mood and hardly noticed. 

“I think I do remember Hadan,” his voice was far away with his thoughts. His gloved hand stroked his scruffy chin. “Younger fellow, Free Marcher. I believe he willingly submitted to the Circle. Never a bother.” 

“It’s lucky he survived,” Imryll said, knowing her comment was probably going unheard. 

“I did help a group of young mages find a safe passage to a ship,” Cullen’s brows furrowed as he sorted through the scattered memories of the chaos in Kirkwall. “After Hawke defeated Meredith. Hmm.” 

“He must have been one of those mages,” Imryll prompted, hoping she was helping Cullen jog his memory. 

“Yes. Yes he was, I do recall.” Cullen’s eyes widened and he pointed at Imryll as if she had handed him undeniable proof. “He was a very nervous boy. He would have trouble breathing from his nerves at times,” Cullen placed a hand on his chest. “I remember having to calm him down before he boarded the ship.” 

"That was very kind of you, Cullen." 

"I suppose." Cullen smiled at the compliment, but it faltered quickly.  

"Are you alright?" Imryll was concerned at this sudden change of mood. 

"All that happened in Kirkwall. All that I said and did," his voice became heavy with memories. "At least I did try to protect the mages when I could. I never broke that vow." 

"You're a good man, Cullen." Imryll took a step towards him and wrapped her arms around his waist. She set her chin on his chest and looked up adoringly. Thankfully, his smiled returned. 

"I am glad that you think so." 

*** 

"We're nearly there," Cullen's excitement was evident in the sparkle in his eyes and the easy way he smiled. Imryll had not seen him smile this much... ever. 

"I can see the old windmill,"  Imryll pointed at the half-collapsed structure shadowed in the mid-morning fog. The journey had been uneventful and the fair weather had made them arrive ahead of schedule. The sun had barely peeked over the horizon, making the haze a golden-orange color, when they stopped for some breakfast on the outskirts of Redcliffe Village. 

"Now that we're really here, I find that I'm much more nervous than expected." Cullen took a bite of bread that had a delicious spiced aroma, his eyes fixed on the town below. 

"Why? What is there to be nervous about?" 

"Oh plenty of things," He finished off the bread and dusted the crumbs from his lap. 

"Such as?" 

"He remembers me as a much different man, Imryll. I was never cruel to him, but I was never compassionate either. Meredith --" He hung his head as her name rolled off his tongue as if it weighed a hundred pounds. 

"I'm sure it will all work out fine, my love." Imryll smiled at him, her love and the rising sun warming his expression. His eyes held hers, but she had to look away, feigning interest at a girl chasing a flapping chicken. The truth was, she had a very uneasy feeling about all this. 

*** 

They had taken their time in Redcliffe, doing a check up on the refugees that had taken up residence in the Village since the sky opened up. The inquisition's efforts had saved many lives and Imryll could barely take a step without someone wanting to shake her hand or give her a gift. She declined any rewards, insisting that their food and clothing were better used by their families. 

It was late afternoon before they reached the address described in the letter. The house was quaint and newly painted although the wear and tear was still evident under the coat. A few old wooden buckets sat around the front, wildflowers sprouting from the packed soil inside. Imryll waves her hand as a honey bee buzzed past her ear. Everything about the house was inviting and familiar and she found herself doubting her ominous feelings.  

"Ready?" He took her hand and squeezed, thankfully not noticing the tiny stitch in her brow that betrayed her unease. 

"Absolutely." 

Cullen took a breath and knocked with his free hand, his calloused knuckles sending a sharp and attentive sound through the house.  

"Who is it?" A girlish voice called from somewhere in the house. 

"Oh, um.." Cullen cleared his throat and raised his voice. "Cullen Rutherford and Inquisitor Imryll Lavellan. _Commander_ Cullen. Rutherford." 

Imryll smiled up at him reassuringly and she felt his hand relax. Footsteps approached the door and a scraping sound of locks being opened followed. Imryll noticed as the locks scraped that there were solid-looking bars on the windows, which were nailed shut. For such a welcoming facade, this house did have quite a lot of effort put into keeping people out. 

The door finally swung open slowly and a tall woman who did not fit the voice that had just spoken peered around. Her hair was limp and mousy brown with streaks of course grey. She looked as if she had not slept in days. "Come in," she said flatly. 

The interior of the house was a perfect reflection of the outside. Everything was pristine and looked soft to the touch. Light streamed in from the washed windows and lit up the crystal wine glasses on a nearby table like prisms. A table draped in white linen and a skillfully crocheted doily took up most of the stove-warmed kitchen. A delicious and hearty smell wafted from a large iron pot in the kitchen punctuated with the beloved scent of baking bread. 

A sitting room with a plush looking sofa and inviting pair of armchairs sat around a delicate looking table that displayed a very lifelike sculpture of an exotic bird. A fireplace crackled merrily across from the sofa, an expensive-looking painting of a forest sitting above the mantle like a window into another world. 

Everything about the house was pleasant and comforting, except for the smell. An odd smell, a bit like the air outside before a thunderstorm. Imryll felt the hairs on her neck stand up and she was seriously considering grabbing Cullen by the arm and pulling him out when he spoke. 

"Are you Loyla?" Cullen's tone was polite. As cheerful as the house was, the woman was anything but. She was so devoid of hospitality and warmth that her presence was almost palpably cold. Imryll searched Cullen's face to see if he was feeling the same dubiousness. all she saw was a pleased, but still nervous smile. 

"What? Oh yes." Loyla waved them over and led them over the polished floor and colorful carpet to a room in the back. The smell grew stronger and Imryll resisted rubbing at her nose.  

"Hadan?" Loyla wrapped her boney knuckle on the door softly. "Hadan! Your guests are here." 

"Guests?" A chair scraped inside the room and muffled steps hurried towards the door. More scraping and clicking locks and bolts were undone before the man appeared. He was tall and mousy-haired like his sister, but his demeanor was like a tightly wound spring that could pop at anytime. His lips twitched and his eyes were unblinking. He hardly resembled the gentle and quiet mage that Cullen had described.  

Cullen's silence told Imryll that he was thinking the exact same thing. Had he been mistaken all along? 

"T-t-templar?" Hadan had a slight stutter. Imryll couldn’t tell if it was a trait of his overall demeanor or a speech impediment of its own. His whole body seemed to be humming with energy, as if he were going to emit lightning at any moment. 

"Hadan? How are you?" Cullen said gently, as if talking to a scared child. 

"I'm f-f-fine." He stammered, his large dark eyes fixating on Imryll. She felt her skin crawl from his gaze. "Who is sh-sh-she?" 

"Oh yes, this is Inquisitor Imryll Lavellan." 

"Why did you bring her?" Hadan's question was disarming, even more so for the lack of his stutter. 

Cullen was caught off guard and did not know how to reply. He rubbed the back of his neck and looked at Imryll.  

"I apologize if my presence is unexpected, Hadan. But Cullen and I are very close and he wanted to share this reunion with me."  

"Oh," Hadan finally blinked and looked away from the Inquisitor. "That's f-f-fine then." 

Imryll made a mental note to procure some Antivan chocolates for Josephine. The nights spent with the Ambassador on how to control the tone and pitch of her voice seemed completely useless at the time. The lessons had come in handy after all. Cullen gave her a grateful smile. 

"Stew is ready, if you are hungry." Loyla's voice droned from behind Imryll unexpectedly, making her jump. 

"About t-t-time," Hadan squeezed through the small gap he allowed between the door and the frame. He walked with a slouch and caught Imryll with his shoulder as he passed, nearly knocking her sideways. 

"P-p-pardon," he said with no apology in his tone. 

Imryll wondered what he was hiding in that room. Too many questions were starting to cloud her mind. What could be causing that strange smell? Was Cullen smelling it too? Was it her instincts telling her something was wrong or just her unfamiliarity with humans? The only thing out of place was the brother and sister. Hadan had been through a traumatizing event so his behavior really wasn't all that strange, considering. His sister, well, she was just odd, Imryll supposed. 

She felt Cullen's hands on her shoulders. "Are you alright?" his voice was low and concerned, but his concern was for her.  

"I don't know, Cullen. Something feels... wrong." 

"I know," he said, looking over her and at Hadan who was helping his sister set the table.  

Imryll followed his gaze and watched the siblings. Hadan was setting the plates down so quickly that they noisily wobbled on the linen. Loyla, on the other hand, was looking at her brother. The look she gave him was sad and distant, but there was a glimmer of affection in that gaze. She did love and care for her brother, as difficult as he seemed to be. This interaction, as private as it was, actually gave Imryll pause. Was she overreacting to all of this? Was it her dealings with the myriad of enemies the Inquisition battled that had made her weary of a couple strange people? 

"Perhaps we've just been seeing the worst of people too often lately." She said in a resigned voice.  

Cullen's golden eyes fixed onto hers and he nodded in understanding. "Perhaps you're right. Let's have this meal and be on our way." the disappointment in his voice stung Imryll. 

*** 

The stew was a bit bland, but it was good enough for a mid-day meal. The wine was a little sour and most likely cheaper than what Imryll had grown accustomed to at Skyhold. The bread, however, was soft and delicious and entirely made up for any fault the accompaniments might have.  

Hadan chattered on and on about the Kirkwall circle. Retelling stories about his early days when he first arrived, how he was scared but eager to learn. The day he first saw Meredith and how terrifying she was. The day he met Cullen.  

Imryll found herself enjoying the stories despite her still lingering weariness. Cullen seemed to have abandoned all care and was laughing and joining in on the storytelling, adding in details when he could. 

"Yes! I remember that mage. Had one solid eyebrow right across his forehead."  

"The library on the second floor? With the statue? I do recall that, yes." 

"That was the day that Hawke became the Champion. No wonder Meredith was snapping at the mages." 

Loyla stood, collecting the dishes and wine glasses silently as the former templar and his former charge reminisced.   

"Did you need some help?" Imryll offered, wanting to be polite. 

"No," Loyla's tone was sharp. Imryll flinched and sat back in her chair. She watched the sister pile the dishes in a basin and walk over to the stove to start water for tea. She still couldn't decide if the brother and sister were suspicious or just strange. A change in Hadan's voice pricked at Imryll's keen ears and she turned her attention back to the conversation at the table. 

"D-d-do you remember that day, C-c-cullen, when Caleb disappeared?" 

The question caught Cullen off guard and his smile, that had been fond with nostalgia, fell. "What?" 

"Remember the d-d-day when Caleb disappeared." It wasn't a question. 

"Caleb? I don't recall --" 

"You remember that it was raining the day Hawke first visited the Gallows, but you do not remember a mage you saw every day?" The stammer was gone again. 

"I'm sorry, Hadan. Can you describe him?" 

"Small, black hair, blue eyes. Scar here," Hadan swiped a finger over his left cheekbone. Loyla set tea in front of everyone and sat down with her own cup. She seemed unphased by the building tension in the conversation. 

"Oh. I do remember him," Cullen's voice was quiet. Imryll looked at him and was alarmed to see a pained expression on his face. 

"I knew you would." 

"Hadan, what happened to him --" 

"CALEB!" Hadan shouted, startling everyone but his sister, who simply stirred her tea. 

"Caleb, y-yes." Cullen was the one stammering now.  

"Hadan," Loyla scolded her brother flatly. 

"I think, maybe we should go." Cullen slid his chair back to stand, but Hadan seized his arm. 

"N-no, I'm s-s-sorry. P-p-please." 

"Drink your tea," Loyla nodded towards their cups. Hadan picked up his and drank nearly all of the scalding tea without hesitation. 

Cullen gave Imryll and inquiring look. She didn't know how to respond. Yes, Hadan's outburst had alarmed her greatly, but again it would be expected from someone like him. His sister seemed to act as if it were a normal thing as well. Imryll ended up shrugging and sipping on the hot tea. It was too sweet for her taste and she set the cup back on the table.  

"Caleb was my fr-fr-friend." Hadan said, this time his voice was sad. The way in which his mood would change was dizzying. 

"I'm sorry about Caleb. If I could have done something, I would have. I assure you." Cullen patted the nervous mage on the shoulder, the contact seeming to wind Hadan even tighter. He pulled his hand away, noticing the discomfort he was causing and drank some of his tea.  

They sat in silence for what seemed like an hour. Loyla alternated between stirring and drinking her tea. Hadan stared down into his empty cup, his fingers tapping on the table in an erratic rhythm. Cullen looked distraught, the way he did when he was remembering the difficult times in Kirkwall.  

"Liar." Hadan said in a whisper. 

"Pardon?" Cullen leaned towards the boy, who struck out suddenly. The Commander dodged the flailing punch easily, his changing falling backwards as he stood strong. 

"LIAR!" Hadan roared again, his face turning scarlet.  

"Hadan, please." Cullen held his hands out in front of him. 

"You saw that Templar bullying Caleb and you did NOTHING! You know they killed him! YOU KNOW!" 

"I did not --" 

"You did! Stop LYING!" Hadan slammed his fists on the table, energy crackling from his fists and burning the white linen on the table. Imryll shot up, taking a defensive stance. Loyla seemed unperturbed and coughed quietly into a handkerchief. 

"You could have saved him. Y-y-you could have told someone. I tried to tell you! Why wouldn't you listen to me?!" Tears streamed down Hadan's splotchy face now.  

"I'm sorry. I should have listened." Cullen had tears in his eyes too. The pain in his expression almost made Imryll start to cry as well. He was never forthcoming about the atrocities that had befallen the Gallows in Kirkwall and she did not ask, but she knew those days haunted him like an unrelenting spirit. And now, the spirit was right in front of him, shrieking him into despair. 

"Caleb is dead because of you," Hadan's fury calmed suddenly and he sat down as he wiped his eyes. Loyla cleared her throat and sipped her tea again.  

"Yes," Cullen's voice was strained and he righted his chair before sitting. "Yes, I know." 

"At least you c-c-can admit it," Hadan said, his voice torn by the shouting. "I'm gl-glad you could c-c-confess before you d-d-die." 

"What?" Cullen looked up at the mage, both of their faces anguished. 

Hadan smiled, a broad and satisfied smile."Loyla p-p-poisoned your tea." 

"Maker's breath!" Cullen flung the cup from the table and stood up, his hands running over his chest. 

"Y-y-yours too," Hadan said to Imryll, his voice almost a laugh. 

"No." Imryll could only manage the one word. She waited for it, the inevitable burning in her veins. The seizing of her throat and rib-crushing retching. Her eyes filled with tears then and she looked at Cullen, who was too stunned to move. He was waiting too.  

but there was no pain. Was this a kind poison that killed mercifully? 

"Actually," Loyla said, her voice catching on a cough. "I did not." 

"What?" The three others asked in unison, differing degrees of panic and relief in the inflections. 

"The only... poisoned...cup," Loyla's face was turning a dark red and she coughed again, "...is...mine." 

"No!" Hadan swatted the cup away from her and started to shake his sister by the shoulders. 

"I...can't....live... with... you..." Loyla made a strangling sound and fell limp in her chair. 

Imryll found herself holding Cullen around the waist, frozen as she watched the volatile mage. the boy's shoulders rose and fell his breathing. She looked up at Cullen, silently pleading with him to get the hell out of there. He nodded and took a step towards the door. 

Hadan roared then, the air in the room growing thick with that odd smell that had been emanating from his room. Sparks of reddish light hopped from his balled fists. It was magic of some kind and he was gathering in a furious wave to surely use to kill them. "This is your fault." He hissed through his teeth.  

Imryll reacted instinctively, gathering her own magic in a panic. It was more difficult without a staff to focus, but this was a desperate situation. She had nearly enough to attack when a glint of something flashed to her right. Hadan made a gurgling sound and fell forward, knocking his dead sister off of her chair. Imryll looked over to see Cullen with his arm outstretched, two other throwing knives in his other hand. 


End file.
